


The Bare Bones

by WanSue



Series: Overwritten [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A rewrite of sorts of the series, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Gen, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Insecurities, Not beta-read, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Pride, Slytherin Ron Weasley, troupe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanSue/pseuds/WanSue
Summary: This is the rewrite of those little summaries that were in between Overlay's Prologue and First Chapter. Those of you who had already read them, I don't know how many new things you will find here, since I'm trying to follow what I depicted before but giving more details, trying as always to make sense of what the characters feel and how they express it. I want to reiteract that this part, the one I think the most important in this narrative, is something I've always struggled with, and therefore this is the experiment I'm doing to better myself and my writting technique. Any constructive criticism you have, I welcome.
Relationships: Ron Weasley & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley & Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Ron Weasley & Weasley Family
Series: Overwritten [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645027
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30
Collections: Compelling Self-Inserts with actual character development and interesting effects on cannon., Favourite Harry Potter Fanfics





	1. First Year

**Author's Note:**

> Something previous readers know as I tacked it while publishing the summaries, is that Ro is a girl, even if she "took over" the original Ron's body. She could be and in fact will be considered a trans girl, and that will mean unease between her and her parents, and secrecy regarding that matter until Fourth Year and beyond, since she won't tell a word about it to her Slytherin year mates until the Yule Ball. So, even though I will refer to her as the female I see her as, whenever I take another person's point of view, however subtly, and especially if they see her as a boy, her pronouns will change to match the way that other person sees her as. And in some cases, even if they do know about her being a girl that doesn't mean they will respect her and her choices.
> 
> That said, on we go to this chapter. I hope you like it.

The night of September first Harry laid in the bed that would be his for the next six years, silently reflecting about the reactions of the students and teachers alike back at the Welcoming Feast. He wasn't as dim as to not have taken note of the sudden moment of stillness that the Great Hall as a whole regaled him after his Sorting. Even Malfoy, whom had shared a compartment with him in the train and the boat had been surprised.

But not Ro; he had clapped hard in the middle of the silence, and thanks to him the Slytherins had overcome their perplexity in time to clap for him before he reached the green table. Malfoy had offered him a place besides him and proceeded to introduce him discreetly to the other first years as the Sorting kept taking place.

The other moment in which a Sorting appalled the students in a fashion similar to his was once Ro, after a few instants, was pronounced as another Slytherin. Loyally, Harry clapped strongly for him, Malfoy not too far behind him, and soon the other firsties and students followed their example, observing curiously the red-head and the student left, in case Zabini were to surprise them and be Sorted into Hufflepuff or something.

During the travel to the school Ro had spoken about Voldemort, mentioning him and spouting several facts about the War he had waged against Wizarding Britain, commenting about the origins of his uprising and criticising his modus operandi, but he had done so briefly, taking care not to offend Malfoy and not really getting into the details that Harry could consider interesting to understand better the reasons that compounded his life and the way he was living it.

The way Ro told things gave them far more deepness than only knowing that his parents were heroes and You-Know-Who killed them; it gave his parents reasons to stand up against Voldemort, choosing to fight instead of getting out of Great Britain, gave him something real about the values they defended and would have wanted to teach him had they raised him.

In front of that, Malfoy became a bit of a prat, wanting to defend his father, though it wasn't easy: either he was one of the bad guys or a weak man for falling under the Imperius. However Ro wasted no time defusing the situation, adequately stroking his ego and taking his mind out of the matter, Harry has observed. It was almost as great as magic, in his opinion, the way he had calmed down the posh guy so that an argument wouldn't break. Not even his teachers back at the school had been that good at stopping children from throwing out their tantrums.

Harry was of the opinion that Ro could be trusted, and the next month proved so to him.

From the first days Harry had realized that Ro went to pains in order to pretend that Malfoy was the one coming up with the ideas, both in front of the other students and when were only the three of them. He also noticed that Malfoy was infinitely more posh whenever in public, only relaxing a bit when not in the view of their other classmates. The blonde guy also was the more socially invested of their group: Ro kept to himself, studying in the Library or exploring on his own, although the red-head always invited him along, while Malfoy -he insisted on being called that way in front of their classmates- met from time to time with Zabini and Nott, sometimes with Parkinson sliding besides him and Crabbe and Goyle following him as if they were his bodyguards.

In those times that Harry was alone with Ro he could ask him anything since the red-head would do his best to explain things to him, be it the theory of Transfiguration or little facts about the Wizarding World that were natural for him but not so for Harry, of the nuances of the History of their country, since he managed to stay awake during Binn's class. Ro told him about yearbooks, where he found photographs of his parents when they attended Hogwarts, and researched together with him about the Potters and their achievements with potions.

Ro was like the older brother he had, way in the past, wished Dudley were: steady, calm, dependable. Always there to help him with a smile and help him feeling comfortable within his own skin when he felt like an outcast at Hogwarts, which was a lot since many students and teachers looked at him weirdly, not only for being the Boy-Who-Lived but also part of Slytherin.

And Ro had even introduced him to his older brothers; the twins were a real blast to be with, always ready to spread mischief and ready to include them both in their pranks, able to boast now of being able to reach the four Common Rooms. Percy was a bit like Ro, though it'd be more correct to say Ro emulated him: both were calm, liked to read and made Harry feel like what he had to tell was important without making feel dumb for not understanding their customs.

Regarding the other boys in their dorm, Harry was more cautious. Crabbe and Goyle were alright even when they spoke very little; Nott was a bit shy but agreeable* enough, despite preferring to be on its own with his books, and Zabini was the most outspoken of them all minus Malfoy, easily chatting up with students of the other Houses while waiting for the teacher. The girls were kind enough, but tended to go in groups and didn-t relate with the boys unless called by them, but for Bulstrode. She also spent most of her time alone, but looking at her Harry thought that it was because the other girls avoided her a little.

A part of him could understand it, he would be scared of any person as tall and strong-looking as her, especially with the no-nonsense expression she had on most of the time, giving her an intimidating aura. However, he knew well enough how it felt to be judged by other people who didn't even try to get to know you a bit, and so he always made sure to smile up at her, nodding to her if their eyes were to meet and inviting her to study with him and Ro.

The first times she had been surprised, but once the invitations kept coming despite her negatives she started to feel comfortable enough to accept them. That had what constituted the first 'big' argument between Malfoy and Harry and Ro, who went to meet them at the Library one day and found them joking with the girl. Had he not been raised the way his father wanted, trying to quash that Gryffindor rashness he still felt very intensely within, he would have come down on them at the Library itself.

Instead he stormed out of there, feeling replaced even if he still didn't know how to name that feeling. He wasn't rationalizing anything at the moment, just drowning into that known sensation of abandonment that he had felt any time his parents had chosen a Ministry function or their social engagements over playing with him. He had believed that Potter and Weasley wouldn't do something like that to him, even when at the end of the day those two were a unit that simply happened to spend time with him. And he had known that, he was able to see at a primal level how Potter preferred the Weasley's company to his unless the three of them were on their own.

That evening he never met the other two boys at the Library, didn't even look at them when it was the time for dinner and instead brooded on his own, steaming in his jealousy by the time he went to bed.

It was a good thing that Ro was observant and mature enough to give him space for a few hours before attempting to talk to him, surrounding herself with a silencing spell before entering into the barrier formed by the closed curtains around the blonde's bed. The surprise of feeling his bed give into the weight of the red-head, whom he was giving the back, was enough to keep Draco out of words while Ro looked at him seriously, asking him if he was alright and if something had happened or if he felt like something he had done had insulted him.

That had been the first time anyone at all had sat down with him to ask him if he was okay, and if not, why, trying to make him feel better, giving him all of their attention and placing importance over his feelings. It was a heady feeling for the blonde, to feel he could matter so much to someone else, worth to lose time of sleep over him, to fix things up just because and not because of the influence his father could have or have not.

Draco walked off that day convinced that Weasley - _Ro_ \- would always be at his back not because of his family, but because of himself. He walked off with a new sense of importance he had never experimented before, always used to his parents being the ones who were the ones deserving of the respect, the time. He wouldn't know it for a lot of time, but from then on, within himself, would always exist the belief that he himself could be more than any other Malfoy before him, that his achievements would serve much more than the purpose of making his family proud, but to build himself up. Because Ro had say so himself, had believed him to be able to be more than his parents' beliefs, to be his own person regardless of whether his father thought that half-breeds like Bulstrode were undeserving of attending Hogwarts or not. Had spoken up passionately about his worth, how nobody could really replace him, how he could instead try to accept that Ro was able to be his friend and Bulstrode's too without forgetting about him.

And also admitted that he didn't think Malfoy senior would be happy to know about the friendship they shared, so he had tried to keep it discreet so as not to cause him problems.

"You won't leave me behind?" questioned the blonde boy suspiciously. "Even if we have to keep a low profile and you end up spending more time with Bulstrode? And even if you will still be my friend first, what about Potter? He doesn't like me as much as you, and prefers to be with you intead of with me" he commented under his breath before pouting just a bit. "Well, that's not your fault" Ro had shrugged. "It's just that many of the Slytherins you talk to still look at him weirdly and he doesn't feel comfortable. I'm sure that if you were to spend time only with Harry he would accept in a second".

"Really?" Draco smiled brilliantly, feeling much better than before.

Soon enough Ro left him to go sleep and Draco closed his eyes, calm and reassured.

It was around the beginning of October that Harry and Ro made a new friend. They had already met Hermione Granger back at the Hogwarts Express, but since the Sorting they hadn't talked much to each other, only sometimes crossing eyes in the Library and nodding respectfully. Plus, the muggleborn had wanted to try to be friends with her Housemates first, though at the time the only one to spend time regularly with her was Neville Longbottom, trying to keep up with her.

In the end it had been thanks to the witch, who saw the closed off expression of Ro after reading a letter in the Library, and telling herself to be brave she went to the red-head boy in order to ask how he was.

Ro had smiled brittlely at her, and the brunette knew that whatever he had read had saddened him, but he still was very gentle and accepted her in the group study he had formed with Harry Potter and the Bulstrode girl. Soon the group accepted Neville too, and from time to time, once every thousand years, Malfoy also studied together with them.

One of the many good things about being friends with Ro were his older brothers, who tended to visit him and by proxy them and then teaching them all cool spells or shortcuts. Hermione herself wasn't very comfortable with them, mostly because they reminded her of some of her bullies, but they were still miles better than those, wanting everyone to have fun instead of being simply malicious.

Plus, sometimes they did things that were really interesting! They liked to experiment with substances, looking for ways to create their own pranks, spells and concoctions and that had a part of research that was simply magnificent, since it could help her understand better the way things worked. Even if she wouldn't need it, but it served her to have a better base.

Also, she had felt better when she and Neville were flanked by the twins that Halloween, going back to the dorms after knowing about the troll in the dungeons. Although that put into perspective the way both the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, whose Common Rooms were down at the dungeons, had been sent there, without even a teacher to guard them.

There could be said many things about the Weasley siblings, but nobody doubted the loyalty they felt for each other. Many a story had been shared back at the Gryffindor Common Room about the two youngest siblings, and that fact hadn't changed once the ever-infamous Ro was sorted into the Snakes' Pit. He was spoken about, his involvement in the twins' pranks lauded by the older siblings as a new wave of funny jokes affected students from all Houses, changing hair's colours and having portraits all over the school spouting muggle songs and plays.

A few nights a month the siblings minus Percy met to hash out things or explore, the older ones teaching the youngest ways to get out of the school or secret nooks to give himself places to spend time on his own. And, ever curious and fearless, the three of them had gone on their merry way to investigate that corridor the Headmaster had advised against, wanting to discover the supposed dangers present at the school.

Ro herself could more or less remember that it had something to do with a special rock and a few trials, and didn't know necessary it was for Harry to complete it, but it would probably be the better option for him to measure his forces in a controlled medium before the war against Voldemort came to pass. She wanted to do everything in her hand to prevent such situation, but she was worrywart enough to operate under the assumption that maybe everything could still occur in the same way she barely remembered it despite her efforts to prevent it. That was the thing about knowing His Dark Bastard still lived: in spite of her best efforts to enjoy her life and make good memories with those around her she still was paranoid regarding him and the Death Eaters.

That meant that her year mates and herself should be prepared for war, the sooner the better. She still didn't know how to accomplish such a thing, but letting Harry know the murdered of his parents was still alive would proportionate a good excuse for them to apply themselves with protective spells at the very least.

It had been with that mindset that Ro informed Harry, Hermione and Draco about the cerberus and the trapdoor she and her siblings had encountered, getting them all aboard the investigation.

Accompanied by that project, the pranks, the sweet letters from Ginny and her Great-Aunt Muriel and also trying to teach Harry the fine nuances of the pureblood crowd time passed slowly until they reached Christmas. Anyone else but Harry and the Weasleys went to spend the holidays with their families, and Harry was surprised by the presents he received. And also by that singular package which contained an Invisibility Cloak, and he happily used it to explore the old castle in the night.

One night he found the most wonderful mirror ever, one that showed him the sight of his parents for the first time ever, and it was actually the best thing to happen to him that Christmas. Excited he told Ro about it, inviting him to accompany him, wanting to share that with his first friend. However he couldn't have expected the reaction Ro had to the mirror, crying over it , trembling while hugging himself.

Worried, Harry did the only thing he knew: taking a page out of aunt Petunia's book he wrapped his arms around his friend, as strongly as he could once Ro also hugged him in turn, grabbing his clothes as if they were his only salvation.

After that, Harry went only once more to the mirror, encountering the Headmaster there for the first time. The old wizard was polite and kind enough, but Harry couldn't feel relaxed in his presence. There was something about him, in the way he looked at him and spoke about his classmates, that made him feel ill at ease, just a bit. Enough for him to be suspicious.

Being six heads thinking together made it all the easier to connect the dots regarding the Philosopher's Stone, especially after Hagrid invited Harry and his friends in order to introduce them to Norbert; while they weren't apprehended during his smuggling out of Hogwarts and therefore didn't spend a detention over the Forbidden Forest, their brains were ingenious enough to guess the answer.

However in the end it was only the original group that went there to protect the stone, being the twins caught red-handed by Snape himself. Ro herself was the one to deny Draco the chance to go together with them. "If it's really You-Know-Who, what do you think he'll do to your family for letting you harm him? Even if your father was never a real follower, he still has his Mark. He can be hurt, and hunted down by following that connection, and you don't want that, Draco Malfoy!" she alleged passionately. He would instead go to warn Snape in case they were to be there for more than fifteen minutes.

After that their history kept being altered, not the least of it because of Harry himself, whom never asked Dumbledore if he could spend the summer at Hogwarts. He couldn't yet spend it back at his friends', what with Ro having lots of siblings, Malfoy's father a stuck-up pureblood and Hermione an only daughter. Plus, Neville's grandmother sounded like the scary sort. However, he didn't spend the whole summer at the Dursleys.

Along that first year the Slytherin boys had reached some kind of understanding between themselves. Crabbe and Goyle followed Malfoy and his orders, as their families had instilled into them, and wouldn't rat him out. Zabini was neutral, and even if he wasn't, he didn't care for the stiffness of proper purebloods. Though he had not explained himself, Nott had good reasons to despise his father and everything he stood up for, including the Dark Lord.

Harry's and Ro's soft way to include them, to accept them with their quirks went a long way to endear them to the young Heirs, who were in the end the ones who thought of the best way to keep in contact with Potter: travelling by elf, which Nott had done a great deal of times to be out of his father's reach.

All in all, Harry thought that summer pretty great. True, Ro and Hermione were too far to be able to visit him comfortably, but they called him, and by some strange design, Ro had managed to be liked enough by aunt Petunia so that she stopped protesting under her breath when the red-head called.

Plus, on his birthday Malfoy, Nott and Zabini visited him along with an strange creature he had never seen before, wrinkled and smaller than him, called Dobby. The three boys and the house-elf had appeared within Harry's room, and taking advantage of the fact that the Dursleys weren't at home at the moment they got out the normal way. Once Nott looked at the house the surprise wrote itself on his face. "I must admit, Potter, you have one hell of protective wards" said Zabini with admiration. "Protective what?" he asked.

By the grace of being taught by his mother, Zabini had spotted the bloodwards waved around Privet Drive number four, and he wasn't lying when he said they were impressive. Impressive thanks to the fact that those were the most complicated blood-based wards he'd had ever seen, not because of their strength. It was all there, the bare bones of what could be a gorgeous magical defence if the one tasked to its care were to do his or her work correctly. Curious, Zabini invited Potter to his family's Manor, wanting to test the connection of the young wizard. Harry himself wanted to learn more about it, having been unable to see it.

Summer had become even more promising than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24/02: Blindness, thy name is WanSue. Three times have I already corrected words and expressions I wrote here in Spanish not knowing at the moment how to express them in English and I must have post this chapter a few minutes ago! Let me know if you encounter any * out here.


	2. Second Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is the Second Year. I hope to have done it justice this time around.
> 
> Enjoy the read!

"Dobby" Draco called at the air from the privacy of his room one calm night of July. One of those his father hadn't come back to the Manor yet.

The blonde twelve years old had spent the last month observing silently both Nott's elves and the ones from his family, and this one he was especially curious about. The wretched thing was always in a far worse state than any other, and even if he wouldn't admit it out loud such wounds were worrying him, just a bit.

The creature answered his command promptly, looking at him briefly cowed before awaiting his orders. "Yes, young master Draco Malfoy, sir?". Both his hands were ironed out and poorly bandaged, only adding to his disastrous appearance. "I want you to explain me the reasons why you are always so wounded" the preteen all but demanded.

Just so was how the bond between the child and the elf would start, with the Heir ordering him to apply Essence of Murtlap to his wounds and the elf trying to communicate the things his Master was up to once Draco worked out that his father was planning _something bad_ for the next year at the school.

The fact that he was one of Harry Potter's friends, and that he visited him and sent him letters as much as he could in a way Dobby hadn't been able to interfere with constituted the first of several reasons for the creature to lightly betray his Master to his son. It was far easier to warn him than it would be the Great Harry Potter, since Draco Malfoy was his Master's Heir and by that right alone the bound loyalty of the creature was already secured.

Like any other magical creature, especially one of those that belonged to the fair folk, Dobby was more than able to twist the orders given to him so they'd suit his needs, and his own values aligned themselves more with those of the young Draco than this one's father.

That was the only reason Draco was made aware of the plan his father held regarding one suspicious leather journal, since Dobby had shown it to him before he discarded the idea of 'losing it without realising'.

Like any other child raised in a Dark House worth their salt, Draco had long ago built a sixth sense to differentiate dark objects from truly cursed things, and though latent, he could viscerally feel the evilness of the journal once he touched it. That was one foul thing, far more dangerous than any other dark hallow currently present at Malfoy Manor.

"And my father... my father _wants_ to send this to Hogwarts with one of the students?" incredulity painted Draco's voice, not wanting to believe his father able to do such thing. Unconscious of this, he was shaking his head, his voice trembling. "No, I don't want to believe that". Dobby's face fell hearing this; however the young Malfoy hadn't finished. "But just in case, let me plan something to avoid it. I really hope he won't do it, maybe he'll simply sell it to one of the shops from Knocturn and that will be all" Draco started to justify himself.

The previous year, despite hiding his budding friendship with Ro and Harry from public eyes -and specially from the snakes within the common room- Draco had started to develop himself in ways his parents would have very much like to prevent. He was being more accepting of half-breeds and muggleborns, not considering them all inferior to him ever since Granger and him crossed words at the Library and Ro made him recapitulate in his stance regarding Bullstrode. He was beginning to think of himself of something greater than a mere pawn to further up his parents' politic stance, someone whose only duty was to better his family name.

He was a Malfoy, he bled silver and green, and to think himself superior was one of the only lessons his parents had taught him regarding himself as a person. Things like manipulation and how to shift the guilt onto another people he had picked up at his mother's knee, but Draco had been born with a reckless trait none of his parents had been able to eradicate from him. He had been from the beginning a not-so-perfect pureblood son in regards to that matter, and being best friends with what his father would call a mudblood lioness, a golden hero and a bloodtraitor had done nothing to quash that.

After what had happened at the end of last year, with the shadow of the Dark Lord possessing Quirrell and he being unable to help his friends in order to protect his family, Draco also wanted a bit of that glory, even subconsciously. All his life he had waited for an adventure of that kind to live besides the Boy-Who-Lived, a chance to test those bonds forged in trials and to defeat the Great Evil. Like many other children before him, Draco had always wanted to be a hero, the protagonist.

This could be a chance to be that, even if nobody else would know it. Even if he couldn't tell a word about it, or even when he himself didn't want to believe his father able to put other children in danger, because any child was precious in the Wizarding World.

However Dobby was convinced that his Master really wanted to release such foul thing in the hands off a child, was convinced that his father _would love to hurt or even kill Harry_. And Draco... Draco would make a plan, just in case, because it would make him feel better with himself, as if he were protecting his friends this time. And if it was unnecessary, all the better, because his faith in his father would be allowed to remain unbroken.

For Harry's birthday, Zabini, Nott and him were to visit him in his home, apparating thanks to Dobby who offered himself to take them there. Ro had convinced them to get both him and Granger once it was dark outside so that their parents were sleeping, in order to celebrate.

The plan had derailed a bit once Zabini insisted to take Harry to his Manor, but surely Madam Zabini would love the opportunity to study the blood-wards attached to Harry and Privet Drive, weak as they were. Katherina Zabini had always been a scholar at heart, even though she didn't flaunt it that much, and had no problem allowing Potter to spend the rest of his summer back at Italy.

However, during the few time the snakes had spent at the muggle place, all of them had noticed the extremely great concentration of half-kneazles there.

("Oh, those are Miss Figg's cats. She has a ton!" had answered Potter, to the suspicion of Nott. He was no stranger to controlling guardians. "Those are half-kneazles, Potter, and whoever breeds them surely is living here on someone else's orders to keep an eye on you" had been Nott's dry response. "It was said that Dumbledore was the one to take you that night. Before last year no one knew where were you, so it wouldn't be strange if that woman was here to report of your status to the headmaster".

In the end the children decided that Harry would show his face once a week on Privet Drive so whoever she informed to wasn't tipped off.)

Draco would see Harry a few more times, always in the middle of the night along with Ro, Nott and Granger. He even saw Ro on Diagon Alley the day he went to buy his things. However the very first crack at the ideal of his father would appear that very same day.

He had put Dobby at work ordering him to carefully watch his father's moves so as to know where would he dispose of the journal. Had Lucius sold it to Borgin and Burke or such, he wouldn't care any where the wretched thing ended in. Sadly, Dobby communicated him of the smooth move his father had used to put the journal with the books of the only sister Ro had.

Just like Ro had talked to him, reassuring him and being the sweetest person he had ever interacted with, he had seen the red-head in some hard moments. His siblings adored him, despite being lions, and his sister was the one who wrote the most to him, always making him smile. But that didn't make make it up for the fact that his mother didn't like him as much ever since he was sorted into the Snakes' Pit.

For that fact alone Draco felt like he already knew Ginevra, her little quirks, her fiery disposition towards Ro, her outspoken personality. She had seemed like an okay girl to meet, for one that was a little sister, so that she was the one his father had chosen to give the diary to felt like a double kick for him.

Thankfully Dobby had taken it at the first chance he got, going straight to Draco with it. The blonde owled it to Dumbledore that same night, cautioned by Dobby about its apparent significance to the Dark Lord. What would the headmaster do with that thing? He didn't know and also didn't care. Rumour had it that the old man had been the one You-Know-Who feared, so Dumbledore was the only person Draco would send it to.

Since the day he saw Ro and his family at Diagon, Draco hadn't been able to look at his friend in the eyes, refusing to meet due to certain shame that had invaded him. He still couldn't believe what his father had done, and that his friend's little sister would have been its victim made him feel queasy.

Because of that the appearance of Ro took him a bit by surprise, the tip of his red hair near his shoulders and with longer bangs than before. However the Slytherin Weasley didn't allow him the grace to run away from him, cornering him once the rest of their roommates were sleeping and demanding to know why had he been avoiding him.

Draco admitted to nothing, not wanting to say out loud what his father had done, ashamed to tell Ro a word about it, but even so Ro didn't pressure him to reveal what he didn't want to. However next day Draco would interact with him as he usually did, choosing this to believe the red-head's words when he told him that he'd stand besides him and support him at the best of his ability, forgiving and accepting his faults.

He also had the nerve-wrecking pleasure to meet Ginevra Weasley, who was promptly included to their study meetings. Lively and outspoken when not in front of Potter, the youngest Weasley was interesting and funny enough. It was clear she was the apple of Ro's eyes, whom braided her hair softly, prettily, who taught her shortcuts and encouraged her in every project she wanted to start. Surely Ro was as dependable as any adult due to his taking care of a baby younger than him since he was young.

Apart from that, in those first weeks the Quidditch trials started. Draco could be proud to be chosen to be one of the chasers, the only one from his year to get into the team. Not everything else was as great as that, not when Lockhart was a useless moron and all the girls were all sighing behind him, wilfully blind to his dumb actions and decisions.

At some point in the middle of November their group grew a bit more when Ro came with a little blonde girl in tow, her robes lined in blue and wearing Ro's shoes. Luna Lovegood was already being bullied by her roommates, her things being moved and hidden, her existence only acknowledged to mock her, and once Ro saw it she would not let it lie.

Throughout the rest of the year Ro would walk the corridors tense, wand ready in her holster, a mirror in her hand.

Up in his office, the headmaster observed contemplatively the Dark Lord's Horcrux, pondering just how many more could have created the man before he was vanished. Since Harry hadn't talked to him very much the past year and had no reasons to do so at the moment or even a reason to realize that speaking to snakes was something only Voldemort could do, Dumbledore wasn't even contemplating the possibility of Harry being a human horcrux.

From the depths of the dungeons Snape watched his second years.

While before the rest of the school the silver-green House presented a united front, within their common room existed more factions than those made by their years. And the presence of Harry Potter was affecting his year in a way he had rarely seen since his tenure started. After all, not many days one could see all the snakes of the same year undivided, instead of trying to out-maneuver each other to contend for the power to influence the younger students.

A part of him wasn't surprised that the son of that buffoon Potter would be able to charm anyone, even when the dunderhead wasn't truly outgoing. Apparently he was nice to everyone -he wasn't blind when last year Potter was the first one to gain Bullstrode loyalty- and he hadn't the brains to pull off a double-cross. Nowadays he was much too noble for it, curiously.

The rest of the boys had been sweep off their feet last year, what with Crabbe and Goyle following Malfoy, Zabini being neutral and Nott despising his father. The girls had been more prudent, but despite his acceptance of Bullstrode, Parkinson would always follow Malfoy's lead and she was in cordial terms with the Greengrass Heiress and the youngest Davies. In the end those two also accepted Potter as part of them.

For his part, the Weasley could fend for himself -something quite surprising-, being far more controlled externally than the rest of his peers. Sometimes the Slytherin's Head of House looked at him, suspicious of the red-head whom could subtly lead the opinions of his yearmates almost intuitively.

Besides Bullstrode, Parkinson was the first girl to confide in Weasley. Just a little, about the expectations her parents put on her shoulders. It was mainly Malfoy's fault. But she wasn't the last to go talk to him.

While the other Heirs were intelligent and used to the pressure of their parents to grow up faster than other children, there was something about that Weasley that was inherently mature in comparison to them. Snape wouldn't be surprised if he were to be the crush of every girl at least once.


	3. Second Year II & Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was about to start rewriting their third year and I thought that their second one still had too much to tell, especially in relation to the original Third Chapter, so I cut that one down to much less than its half, including it instead in this one, and I must tell, I regret nothing. As always, do tell me if I left any ** out there, thanks.
> 
> I hope you like it.

All in all, their second year at Hogwarts could be considered a normal one. No scares, no bigger problems than Lockhart, no conspirations afoot. Only the children mingling about and sharing some minor problems from back at home, defining the line that would separate them from other Slytherins and, in due time, from their families. In some kind of way.

Bit by bit all of them grew a little out of the mold fabricated by their parents' expectations, subtly, delicatedly. Draco would never listen to her father again without first questioning him in his own mind. Daphne would stop containing that kindness within her, Greg and Vincent expressed their thoughts with more ease when among them.

Harry and Ro were the driving force behind this, even when the first one wouldn't realize it for a long time.

And so they told them all about last year and the spectre of the Dark Lord, its pathetism despite his power. Ro had been preparing all year for a future encounter, even when Harry himself believed him to be paranoical, and not counting Hermione, who could see the logic behind it, the other snakes turned it into a game. The one where they looked for unusual spells to master and thought of outrageous ways to survive were an open conflict to break. At the very least it was funny enough.

Not only Granger did that besides the snakes, but also the twins, Lovegood and Longbottom. They brought up new points in their way to approach the hypothetical situation, and from time to time maybe a right laugh out of the very serious purebloods.

  
There were times when Draco would have wished to never had met Ro back at the Hogwarts Express. Not because he hated him, or envied him, or because Ro was evidently superior to him... But in a way, maybe it was so. Being besides the red-head, Draco could never avoid to compare himself to the slightly older boy.

The one who always had the higher moral ground, the one who was strongheaded enough to put himself and his beliefs before those of his parents', despite the problems he could get into with them. The one who never had a nervous melt down, the one whose face could be completely unreadable, unlike his.

In many ways, Draco could see Ro as the perfect pureblood son his parents would have wished for, never rushing into things, never getting any problems due to his manipulations -Draco wasn't blind, he could see Ro managing their classmates with such finesse he wouldn't have seen it if not for Parkinson's words-, always finishing in a better stance than any of his adversaires.

After all, though their year mates were defining their roles within the group they were all part of, covering for their backs against the other snakes if needed, that wasn't to say that the rest of Slytherin would support them when inside the Common Room. Duels within their walls were their bread and butter every day.

And Ro... he breathed over every one of his duellers, in spite of the difference of age. Over every one of their goings on to weaken his stance out of the Common Room, to humiliate him regarding his homework, his spell work. It never worked.

Had the red-head a bit more of ambition, he could be the Prince of their Year. Instead he deferred to himself and Harry, though this one was too naive to realize it, also deferring to the Weasley when he could reassert his dominance. That way Draco was the Prince apparent of their year. He wielded the status, the influence in front of the eyes of the outsiders. That was good enough in his opinion, since both his parents believed him to be the real power behind his Year.

But Draco knew the truth. He knew when the others proved blind to it, and that, together with the shook to his convictions at the beginning of the year, made for a ground, heartbreaking experience to him and the things he had been raised to think.

  
Growing up as the younger daughter had made Tracy into a mild-mannered girl, always depending on Richard and deferring to him and his opinions when not to their parents'. In fact the only thing she could claim as hers would be reading, since her behaviour and beliefs were conscripted to those of her family.

Never before had been that a problem. It still wasn't. She simply wanted something more than being a discrete wallflower whose bigger influence would be to assist her future husband acchieving his political targets. She wanted that hidden sentiment from her novels, the spark of a real friendship which would give a unique flavour to her life.

That made her feel restless, once she was able to put such a wish into words that February. Giving it a name only served to make it stronger than before, and observing Weasley and how he treated Potter for almost two years had made her want and envy with the first flames of passion she would feel in her life.

But once Parkinson told her and Daphne of going to talk to their classmate, of his comprehension, a new door opened. Weasley didn't appear to hate them, always being respectful, and she hadn't heard word of this conversation he shared with Parkinson, which actually proved him as discrete enough, noble enough not to use the secrets they would share with him in confidence. After all, it had been more than half a year since, according to Parkinson, and the girls from their dorm knew only because she had shared it herself.

Tracy spent maybe a week debating with herself about speaking directly to Weasley before giving in. Besides Parkinson, she was the first one to go talk to him.

  
While most of their other classmates took the possible coming back of the Dark Lord as a game, Theodore Nott clenched his fists, grinding down his tooths. The pale young child remembered clearly his mother, whose last words had been about being able to distance themselves from You-Know-Who and maybe renovate their stance regarding muggleborns.

That man who called himself father killed her with the killing curse, timing it to make it appear as if she had misstep on the stairs. He had been barely six at the time, and while then he still couln't understand the significance of the act, hating his father merely because of who he was and the way he acted towards his son wasn't difficult.

Young Theodore had learnt to hide his thoughts from his father soon enough, valuating the privacy of his desire for revenge, lest that man were to find out about it once he developed a plan cunning enough to free himself of his presence.

Along with Weasley he practiced the spells to the point of competent efficiency, especially those of attacking qualities, and that was the defining factor to make him be closer to Weasley that year than in the previous.

Plus, once the redhead discovered about his knowing Occlumency he asked in for a favour: to teach it to Potter as soon as possible, since the Boy-Who-Lived would probably benefict tremendously of it in future years. He would have been a fool not to take such deal.

Thus that summer brought new perspectives to them all.

Theodore had never spent much time in the company of his father, and the older pureblood tended to be busy enough politcking away to concern himself with his Heir unless this one gave him reason enough to. Given that his marks were high enough and none of his profesors had bad things to say about him, Thadeus Nott spent another summer leaving his son to the care of their House Elves.

And that, right there, was the main reason Harry was able to spent it with Nott, learning Occlumency and once again avoiding the Dursleys.

For his part, Malfoy had been given an extracurricular assignment by Weasley: researching the Knights of Walpurgis and reading as much old newspapers as he could get his hands on. _History_ , had said Ro. _We're doomed to repeat mistakes if we do not know what happened before our time_. The redhead hadn't exactly ordered him to investigate that especific political party, but what they defended had interested him.

However, as the years of his reading got closer to his time he was able to see between the lines what was happening. Never before had he known the details about the First Wizarding War in Britain, only what his father had explained to him, and he had painted the Dark Lord in a very different light, never breathing a word about the several family lines that had been obliterated by him, the torture infringed upon people as pure as themselves only for beliving differently to the Dark Lord.

Draco learnt about the people who was never encountered, the ones who were found dismembered, the ones whose sanity had been lost to Dark Curses, and couldn't help but ask himself if it truly was that what his father defended as his legacy.

Just like any other children raised at the time of the Boy-Who-Lived, Draco had idolized him as a hero, but now he could comprehend why Potter had been lauded as the Wizarding World's Hope, if they had been living in such circumstances before he defeated the Dark Lord.

It was a hard pill to swallow.

But that wasn't the only thing to occur that summer that would left him wrong-footed.

It was after Ro and his family had all travelled to Egypt that Sirius Black, the notorius traitor of the Potters, escaped succesfully of Azkaban. And while Potter wasn't his most favourite person in the world, he was a good friend and didn't deserve to walk into a situation knowing nothing about it. So he wrote him a letter, and also to Zabini, wanting him to investigate about the complete list of charges he had been sentenced to the Wizarding Prison for.

He pointed out the little, disturbing detail of not having existed, ever, a single record of Black's trial.

  
Once the Weasleys got back to Brittish soil a big letter found its way to Ro, who opened it curious. It wasn't everyday that a letter arrived the very same day her friends knew she'd be back to the Burrow.

However as she read her face lost all colour. After all, in the thirteen years she had been living there, she had forgotten about one important detail. It couldn't be considered strange, not when she hadn't been a die-hard Potterhead -that had been her cousin-, but fact was that she had completely forgotten that the family rat Scabbers was the traitor Wormtail, the one who framed Harry's godfather.

What could she do now? What _should_ she do? Sirius had escaped already, the news were travelling all over Britain, and the one thing she could have done to fix that particular mess since forever had eluded her mind from the beginning. She was a fucking dumbass, no doubt, but surely she could do something, anything, whatever to make up for it.

The one perk of living in a wizarding home was that she could do magic as long as her mother didn't realized she was doing it. To solve the Wormtail conundrum a nice _Petrificus Totalus_ proved very useful, allowing her to cage the rat and inmediatly sending it toMadam Bones, at the moment the Head Auror, with an anonymous letter detailing her reasons to believe the rat to be an animagus.

Once the Daily Prophet told the tale of finding the pressumed dead Peter Pettigrew and the truth of his allegiances she breathed a sigh. That was one major misstep corrected; she couldn't afford to screw up things so that Snake-Face could come back earlier. It had been stressful enogh to never encounter the Heir of Slytherin and its basilisk, especially when she was aware that the bigass creature was looming somewhere under their feet. Still alive, and hungry, and ready to be utilized by Voldemort should he ever get back to Hogwarts and free it.


	4. Third Year

That scholar year started with the trials of both Pettigrew and Black. The debates of the Wizengamot, enlonged more because of they not being in agreement regarding just how much retribution was owned to the Heir apparent of one Most Noble and Ancient House, whom of the responsible ones actually had the most to compensate for and who would have to do so in blood, as Lord Arcturus Black the Third was pursuing.

In the last two decades House Black had been decaying, their youngest generation practically lost to the Dark Lord and his war, all of them dead or at Azkaban. The previous ones had been dying through the years, despite them not being that old, to the point that he had been suspecting foul play, resigning himself to die the last respectable member of House Black after burying his cousin Cassiopeia and the last of his family alive besides himself. Barely half a year before the two of them had buried her nephew Cygnus, dear Narcissa's father.

And now that suddenly he had in his hands the chance to clean the good name of his family? That a possible future Lord Black appeared, after having been outrageously wronged? Arcturus lusted for retribution, and a bloody one at that. After having to look down, bowing his head in the privacy of his Castle because of the shame he wouldn't let himself feel in public, he wasn't about to let anyone of the implicated walk away free of his ire.

The very first visit to Hogsmeade was promptly celebrated and enjoyed by the ever-infamous group of snakes. Even Harry was out there, now that the danger of Sirius Black had turned out to be non-existent -and also thanks to one of those weekly visits he made to Little Whinging each summer, as during one of those he had graciously met with his aunt with the request to sign the permission slip with the condition to not be seen by her until next summer-.

Even if the entire group of friends could not meet up in front of the other students, it had been still enjoyable enough. Hermione and Neville had gone together, the twins taking Luna out with them using one of the secret passages before meeting with the other Gryffindors. The Slytherin girls separated themselves from the boys, looking for a nice place to take something sweet and gossip in peace after visiting the town. Along with the boys Ro looked up to the Shrieking Shack, the idea of making it their base circling her head.

It wasn't difficult for the snakes to meet, thanks to being in the same House. However, if they wanted to keep secret the growing friendship developing between themselves and the group of Gryffindors they would have to stop meeting at the Castle, at least for the time being. Maybe once there weren't many older Slytherins they could afford to be more open in their meeting, but for the moment she wasn't interested in letting her relationships become a bargaining chip for others to abuse.

That situation had already been explained to Hermione years ago, and Neville himself could comprehend the reasons why without being prompted. Fred and George had more of an excuse, being her older brothers, and in the eyes of many of their peers _Looney_ Lovegood was as good as a little puppy following her steps.

However it could be great if the group as a whole could meet freely without having to use the excuse of an essay in pairs, just to mingle and chill. Hence why she looked at the Shack with interest shining in her eyes. It certainly wasn't visited much, what with everyone else thinking it was haunted.

Well into the new academic year Harry received the first letter of many that Sirius Black would send him. Christmas was almost on them when the Wizengamot agreed on the retributions they'd pay to the Black Family, and allowed him to see a Mind Healer. Thanks to that now he could contact his godson without the Ministry meddling in there.

He wasn't the only one to write to him, as Lord Black himself had contacted him back at the beginning of the academic year, inquiring about being adopted by his Heir once Sirius was healthy enough to sustain a blood-adoption, and to discuss the details of his stay at Black Castle while things were sorted out that Christmas.

Ro had whistled appreciatively, just a little proud of how things were turning on, congratulating Harry happily while the younger teen blushed under the hand that dishevelled his hair even more. Soon their other classmates from Slytherin were asking him, wanting to know more about the ever elusive Lord Black. And especially, whether Potter would accept such offer.

He already had a lot of sway, what with him being the Boy-Who-Lived. But if he really accepted to be blood-adopted by the current Heir Black -who would not be fathering any son, after his undeserved stay at Azkaban- that would make him also the Heir and future Lord to two magical families.

Such situation had been seen rarely along the last centuries, since it made that Lord responsible of having enough sons to provide for a Heir and a spare to both the families, and ever since the decline of successful pregnancies, many of them in the last times finished with the witch dead while giving birth, nobody wanted to take on such a duty. Especially since Magic could be unpredictable enough were not to be satisfied.

However Lord Black, as any other wix of the old, believed Harry to be powerful enough to sustain such requirements. After all he was who he was, and the godson of his Heir. After all of twelve years Sirius still remembered him, despite having been on Azkaban. He had got out of the unescapable prison just to be sure of the safety of the young Potter, surely there wouldn't be any kid Sirius would put down to inherit any of his.

Therefore it was only right for him to inform the child about it, to welcome him into the Blacks for Sirius was the only family he had left and surely the Boy-Who-Lived could restore the honour of his family.

Potter -Harry- had a lot of power, Theo had found, but very little control, all of it probably instilled to him by the classes and Ro himself, the only one besides Granger who had been invested enough to drill to the point of tiredness the younger boy while studying.

That summer had been a completely different experience for him, not used to teaching to other people. While the young Nott could not be considered a genius, teaching something that had felt natural to him had been enlightening regarding its difficulty, but also reasserted his mastery over his shields, making it even easier to protect his mind.

While it had been more of a chore, a complication, Harry had been able to protect his mind. His shields were still very frail, and wouldn't resist any Legilimens minimally competent, but at the very least he could perceive when someone was invading the privacy of his thoughts.

What could he use the favour Weasley owed him because of it? To Theo it was obvious that the redhead would never side with the Dark Lord, so it wouldn't necessarily be too far-fetched of him to hope for assistance in defeating one of his knights. His death would be his, of course, but Theo wasn't blinded by his need of revenge: he alone couldn't take on his father and hope to live after the fact.

Maybe both Weasley and Potter could back him up?

“So, what do you think?”

For the last month Ro had spent a lot of time on his own, while Millicent got used to the new schedule and Harry was busy reading the newspapers, researching about the family of his godfather and composing letters to Lord Black. Draco and the twins had been off with Quidditch and even if he spent time conversing with Parkinson and Davies it hadn't been as much as with his little circle. In fact Lovegood and his little sister had been the ones to be with him the most that October.

Now the mystery had been revealed, as he conduced their ever-growing group to the Shrieking Shack using the secret passage the twins taught him. Once they arrived to the abandoned place, they couldn't be more surprised by its internal appearance.

Once crappy walls were now painted over in soft brown, with new furniture, armchairs and sofas and even a ready-made bed. Cushions and carpets covered the floor and superficies, the windows covered by blinds enchanted to give the outside the same disastrous appearance it had had for years already.

A little stash of sweets and butterbeer was confined to the interior of a little cupboard and there were even a few tables and chairs in case someone wanted to do some kind of study.

For years already Ro had wanted some kind of place to meet in, though she had forgotten about the Shrieking Shack until her siblings showed her the secret passage to sneak to Hogsmeade that year, and she was enlighten. It was perfect, since only her brothers and Lee knew about the passage besides her and the groups of friends she had, and everyone else believed the place to be haunted and tended to avoid it but for the obligatory first visit to see it.

What better place to spend their free time with their friends was there?

It had been thanks to Theo that Ro concocted such idea.

The young pureblood had looked at her and the way she studied, as if preparing herself for war when their friends took it as a game only, and informed her of the favour he wanted to collect for teaching Harry Occlumency.

She still didn't know much of what had prompted the other teen to despise his father so, but recognized hatred enough to know his feelings weren't being faked. With her help or without, Theodore would enact his revenge on the older Nott.

Sure of the certainty of war they'd face in few years, Ro had chosen to lent him her aid, valid reason for both to research for hurtful spells together and practice dueling in a more grueling way than their other friends did at the moment.

But doing that reminded her also of another thing she should have realised the year prior, at the very least.

Worried as she was anticipating the appearance of a gigantic snake, she had forgotten, stupidly, that Harry could understand them, as that little fact was never discovered at the Dueling Club. However Theo liked to talk, now that he had a partner in his plans, about his father, his weaknesses and his devotion towards the Dark Lord. And also the tales he had told him about You-Know-Who and the claims of this one to be descendant of Slytherin, justified by his use of Parseltongue.

“ _Surely there's no one else who is as dumb as me”_ she had recriminated herself. And true, she hadn't been a Potterhead, she hadn't read the books, watching the first seven films in a crazy marathon her cousin had convinced to do before going to the cinema and finish the series there; but she had been so obsessed about the war and the deaths going on the last film that she had overlooked all those details that would have contributed to make this her new world a better one.

Like Wormtail being the rat of her family, Sirius being innocent or Harry's use of the snakes' language. _“I should kick myself on the ass for a year!”_ was telling herself mentally. _“Merlin's sake, what if I've forgotten something else? What if I'm dooming us all faster?”_. As always her catastrophic mind was running ahead, jumping on the first bad scenary.

Believing that reinforcing her friend's place on the hierarchy of their House was priority, to cement the loyalty or good-will of their friends on Slytherin, she had looked for a spell to bring a snake to their dorm. It wouldn't do to have the whole House know about Harry's hability, but since not many of the older years were as inclined to appreciate his presence, but he had good-enough rapport with their year mates that she thought it could be a good idea to reveal him as Parselmouth.

And that had to occur with Harry knowing nothing of her scheme. The little teen would be charismatic enough on his own to secure the other children to his side. After all, if that Voldemort had done so while being a dick, surely Harry would win them effortlessly, as he was already caring and sweet enough for them to appreciate his presence and accept his ways.

Spring had almost gone on completely when Arcturus chose to start his preparations for the retribution ceremony he would celebrate. On the Summer's Solstice he would ask for a just price to be paid for the years Sirius had lost to others' incompetency or schemes, centrating his fury especially on those whom had been responsibles for the case of his grandson and his imprisonment without a trial.

What things could have been delayed thanks to the capture of Pettigrew would occur once again, in a different way.


	5. Summer & Fourth Year:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well.
> 
> What can I say, this chapter ended being bigger than what I expected.
> 
> Please tell me if I've left anything in Spanish, there were a few times I didn't remember the English word and maybe there are some left that I haven't located.
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

Harry spent that summer exploring the Black Castle followed by Marten, Grandfather Arcturus' -as the man insisted on being called- house elf.

The place was as grand as Madam Zabini's habitual residence, far more lavish than the Nott Manor, with detailed architecture, precious paintings -not all of them magical, curiously- and an enormous garden surrounding the elegant building.

It was also very empty, very silent and cold in certain way. Had far too many rooms, high corridors and even a ballroom that hadn't been used in a lot of years. It was silent, solitary, the only change on the monotony the hours he spent in the company of Grandfather Arcturus or listening to Sirius and Remus.

The last two recounted old memories from the time his parents were alive, usually it was Lupin the one to start, coaxing Sirius to relive the happy times that Dementors had stole from him. Had it not been for that heart-breaking truth of the death of James, his worst decision and the most horrible realization of his life, he would have lost them all irreversibly.

It was painful to see, even when he hadn't known him before and therefore couldn't completely appreciate the differences between him before Azkaban and after it. Remus -as professor Lupin had asked him to call him- wouldn't talk to him about it, wouldn't explain how it was to watch the personal demolition of his only friend, his attempts to rebuild himself from the meagre scraps left of him.

Meeting with Grandfather Arcturus was better in that sense. The old man didn't have stories to tell about his parents, nor did he want to. Instead, Lord Black spoke about the Potters as a whole, what little he knew of their achievements from the public's point of view, and also the Blacks. His velvety voice spun tales of his descendants, of his bad choices that led to the slow fall of his family.

Harry hadn't liked the class of History back at Hogwarts, but Lord Black knew how to hold his attention, how to intrigue him. There were few moments dull when he was with the older wizard. Along with the history of those who were there before him, the man also asked about him, about his life before Hogwarts, his life on the school, those he considered his friends and allies.

Not only that, but Arcturus Black had told him... things, about himself. About who he was and what he was able to do to avenge those he had lost, what could Harry wait from him. “I'm not a nice man” he had told Harry. “I harbour a hatred for those who had wronged my family that will subvert those morals others look up too”.

“The Dark Lord will pay for the life of my descendants. And not only him, but also those who unjustly imprisoned Sirius”.

“To be a Black means that you bow to no one, following your path. Mine is the protection of those I consider mine”.

It was refreshing in a way, to be told with such crudity what the other thought. Especially to Harry, who had been distrustful of the grown ups for a long time already. The older wizard was being also very accepting of his friends, despite their ancestry. After all, many of his House mates hadn't wanted to accept Millicent, and even after three years Ro still had to duel the other students, who thought him a bloodtraitor upstart.

However Grandfather Arcturus had listened to him attentively while Harry tried to explain those who were his friends, how they were and the ways they had help him through the years, and that included more than the Malfoy, Nott and Zabini Heirs, whom the Lord Black would have approved of anyway. He had been polite even in regards to Hermione, commending her marks and admiring her dedication towards her friends that made her accepting of their political minding and endeavouring discretion because of it.

He had even allowed him to visit his friends in those cases it was possible, or to agree with a date to meet at Diagon when it wasn't recommendable to visit. It was thanks to that that he had met up with Hermione the past week, and Blaise had invited him to spend a week at his mother's Manor. Soon he'd be able to see Ro too, now that he knew how to get to his place.

Harry's first impression of the Weasleys as a whole was almost fantastic. Their home, the Burrow, was a bit strange but interesting to look at, and Ro's other siblings that he hadn't met yet were good people. Mr. Weasley was kind enough, though a bit detached in his opinion. Mrs. Weasley however, was a bit of a nasty piece, briefly reminding him of Petunia, but not at the same level. She was more high-strung than single-mindedly cruel, but she still was a bit more tense towards Ro than it was justifiably in his eyes. Ro was a Slytherin just like him, not a killer in the making or whatever had her panties in a twist.

Fortunately they didn't have to spend a lot of time in her presence, going to play Quidditch at the field or planning how to meet at the Quidditch Cup that would be held that summer on England. It'd be a bit tricky, considering that Draco would go too and they had all to mind the politicking as always, but he was still excited for it.

Back at Malfoy Manor, from time to time Parkinson would drop there with a letter to the Weasley to be sent through Dobby, and also Nott. The last one wrote to the red-head to inform him of his father's moves, convinced that the other one would be interested to know about the changes regarding his Dark Mark.

Draco had been telling the other 'Death Eater children' about his discoveries regarding the First Wizarding War of Britain the past decade, the number of deaths, the scale of the attacks. Any pureblood with ancestry old enough knew, at the very least, about the old legends regarding their kind. Specifically, that it was said that each pure family had anchored their blood to the earth itself so as to create the magical enclaves they all lived in, hiding their presence from the muggles back at the time the Statute of Secrecy was installed.

It was true that not many were studious enough to remember each and every detail recorded on their libraries, but Blaise had been especially taught by his mother about wards, which at the end of the day, had been their ancestors' doing. Warding whole hectares from muggles, following the Ley Lines to power them while still being anchored to the blood.

Blood-purity had been so importantly regarded in the past because of it, even if not many people from the present day wanted to research about it. Zabini had been the one to inform their year's group about that once Malfoy showed them the fruits of his historical research about the destruction originated because of the Dark Lord.

Thanks to that, now the little group including Malfoy, Parkinson, Greengrass -and therefore Davies-, Weasley and Potter had a bigger reason to be wary of You-Know-Who. Specially when they knew he wasn't as dead as everyone believed him to be. Nott was mostly indifferent regarding that reason, but would collaborate with them since his main target could align with theirs nicely.

These secret conversations they held occurred when they visited the Solar Cottage, a little, discrete building where Zabini preferred to spend his summers when his mother enjoyed her honeymoons. From time to time, they met there, maintaining a little archive of sorts of the information they had pertaining the Dark Lord and his possible return. They had also started to transcribe all those strategies they had discussed previously in jest, teaching each other those spells they had found useful.

It was partially thanks to the red-head in their mist, paranoid from the first day and suspicious of any 'Death Eater activity' that reached their ears thanks to their ins with Nott and Malfoy. ' _It's better to be over-prepared than under-prepared_ ' was only one of the many sentences he spouted from time to time. And now such attitude was catching with them too.

Once that fiasco at the World Cup occurred, they metaphorically looked at each other, worry etched on their faces. What a bad instance for the Weasley to be spot on. Their internal policies had to be reinforced, the sanctity of their minds protected at any cost just in case -it wouldn't do for their families to know that their children weren't in league with their old master- and having ready multiple escape options was now the first priority -more than before-.

The Greengrass family, just like the Zabini, had been neutral in the past war, and had more terrain than money so Daphne thought it'd be easier for her to provide a way for them to get out of the country if needed; Blaise believed that his mother wouldn't object too much at giving political asylum to those who needed protection; Theo would sooner poison his father's tea than following his Lord and Draco... Due to the things he had been learning of the man when he wasn't only his father, and what he had learnt about the Dark Lord and the actual reach of his destruction over their culture, he thought himself able to leave behind Lucius. However Vince and Greg were another matter altogether. They were his in a magical sense of the word, practically his vassals, but they also had the shorter leash regarding their families. He felt responsible from them, and who knew what would happen to them were Draco to escape without them – they could be blamed for his conduct, even!

None of them knew how much time they had left to make plans and cover their tracks, but they would make do to the best of their abilities.

The group hadn't attempted to contact Weasley or Potter the rest of that summer through letter, just in case, so they had to tell them about the TriWizard Tournament once they were back at the Hogwarts Express. Immediately the red-head had raised the point they all thought about but didn't want to look at.

“Doesn't strike you as strange that a deadly game that has not been played since Merlin-knows-when is suddenly reinstituted the same year that those Marked by the madman start to recover their Dark Marks? The same year the green snake along the skull is seen over the greatest convention among wixen?” he rationalized, standing up in the middle of the first sentence and walking from door to window with a focused look on his eyes. “I don't know about you, but I think this could be a ploy to get something or the other. I want eyes up, ears open and careful thinking here. Our very lives could depend on us outmaneuvering, outthinking our foe”.

Maybe two years, one year ago they would have sided with their parents. However the thing about looking oneself for the answers when no one else tells you, is that you can't be deceived as easily. Their parents had sang to them about the Dark Lord and the changes he wanted to introduce in their society, but hadn't said a thing about the mayhem he caused, or maybe hadn't know what consequences his acts would bring to their community as a whole. And that could sting.

They knew Ro, too. One of the things that many a Slytherin shared were the high expectations from their parents, and along that, a series of complexes and insecurities that could manifest in many ways. And the Weasley was aware enough to have seen that from the first year, mindful always of their quirks and discreetly encouraging them long before they started to go to her to talk about their problems. As the time passed Ro had become an important asset for the snakes' mind health.

Not only that; the red-head had been to all of them an example from his very first day, always defining himself differently from the rest of his family, being unapologetically himself, not bowing to others about whom he was – all of that while at the same time being practically the first to acknowledge them for the people they were, not their families, their parents, their expectations.

He had been like candy in a sense, and that had been helpful when steering his classmates into becoming people ready to think for themselves and act up, even if they had to keep it secret from their families.

The silence invaded the Great Hall as everyone looked back at Harry, judgement clouding their eyes, after he was elected as Champion in a game he wanted no part in. He heard someone taking a deep breath besides him and felt both his hands being engulfed by someone. Hermione and Ro, with Blaise and Draco being a comforting presence at his back. “We're with you, Potter” Pansy whispered while crossing a look with Daphne.

Someone was out to catch the Boy-Who-Lived, and His Dark Bastard was the only real option.

The Hufflepuffs were outraged, and even if he was Harry Potter he was also a Slytherin, so Gryffindor wouldn't support him too obviously. They weren't sure about the Ravenclaws, but it didn't matter. The Slytherins would make sure not to let disgusting people get near enough to hurt Harry, closing files around him and teaching him as much as it was possible for him to come back alive, even if they had to reveal knowledge about Dark jinxes because of it.

The Ritual Lord Arcturus Black had enacted back at the Summer's Solstice had been the reason behind a series of accidents and even deaths in a few cases that had paced themselves through the next six months. Consequence of it was the heart attack that killed one Mr. Bartemius Crouch one nice morning of July and the subsequent liberation from the Imperius Curse that his son experimented. He had been already asking for the TriWizard Tournament, and after his burial the act was pushed on as a way to honour his last wish, it could be said.

It had been a better recovered Bartemius Jr. the one who went to look for his Lord, who gave to him a token body out of a golem and fetched his wand. The one who conjured his Mark over the World Cup as a warning for those Death Eaters content enough to let their master rot. And also the one who supplanted Moody teaching at the school, ordering Winky to care for the weakened Dark Lord while he was away.

Having the support from his House, even if it was in the case of the older years more of a public token of it, did wonders for him, in spite of being sure of the knowledge that somebody out there wanted him dead. The First Task came and passed without much of consequence.

He was far more worried about how things were back at home, since while Sirius was recovering marvellously, Grandfather Arcturus was becoming weaker with every passing day. He couldn't even go visit on Christmas because of the stupid Yule Ball where he had to obligatorily dance in -open the dance, even- due to being a Champion. That was enough to work up the anger within him.

And then, on the Winter's Solstice, Snape called him to his office. Lord Black was at Death's Doors and requested his presence.

The atmosphere at Black Castle was colder than ever, and he himself felt wearier than could be justified. It wasn't like he had known Grandfather Arcturus that much time – however, the older wizard had taught him much, always regarding him as an honorary grandson, being patient with him, listening to him... Arcturus Black had been upfront with him from the beginning, had delivered in every thing he had promised and became an standard of what he wanted to receive from other grown-ups.

Maybe other people would tell him he had no business professing any kind of familial love for the man, but Harry felt it anyway, as much as he could.

It was that way, with tears clouding his green eyes, but not falling yet, that Arcturus greeted him when he arrived too his bedroom. Sirius was also there, alone with Lord Black, and though Harry still didn't know it, Remus was out for the day.

“Good afternoon, Harry” said Arcturus, a cough interrupting him at the end of the sentence. “I promised you that you'd be blood-adopted by my grandson once he was strong enough to support the ritual; however it seems my demise comes upon us before that” the older wizard took a deep breath before he kept talking. “That is not to say that I won't see you a complete Black before I die today. Before I have to go, I would like to see you blood-adopted by him so that no one could ever contest his claim over you and send you back to those muggles” Harry had spoke about them with the wizard, encouraged by his no-nonsense attitude and the way he took him seriously.

Arcturus extended a hand towards Harry, and the teen took it with as much strenght as he dared before they started the Ritual.

When the following day Harry had to go back to the school he did so after cleaning his tear-tracked cheeks, entering the Slytherin Common Room as soon as he could and not talking to anyone while keeping his facade the best he could. Wordlessly he threw himself over his bed before he started crying once again – it tended to happen whenever he looked at his Black Heir ring.

Ro entered at some point, but said nothing to him, sittind down on the floor besides his head and extending a hand to grab his strongly. And for the next hour nothing changed but for when Harry hugged Ro's shoulders, sobs shaking his entire body. Ro never told him that everything was alright, or tried to distract him from the pain he experimented. He _wanted_ to feel that pain, give it the importance it deserved, because for once he was losing someone who was his, someone he remembered – someone whom was more than a concept, a few stories and the awful memory of his parents' murder.

Being that the situation, it wasn't that unexpected that he had foregone completely the task of asking a girl to be his date for the Yule Ball. Thankfully Malfoy had prevented such situation, having thought Potter would be far more worried about his grandfather than with opening the Ball, and Tracy Davies was already spoken for and Harry's date for the night.

No happy chats about the Ball were held in their dormitory, not at least while Potter was present, so it was on Christmas morning, merely hours before the event started, that Malfoy and the other boys in their year got to know that Ro was going stag. “I care not for inviting a girl, Blaise. I don't like them in that sense” had commented the red-head when asked to, with a detached aura surrounding him even as he said that facing him eye to eye. The news shocked all the boys currently present at their dorm, freezing them all to their spots.

It was clear what he had said without putting it into words, and the mere fact that he did so was a very corageous act. Many of them were Heirs to their families, which meant that they were expected to marry nice, pureblood girls and provide Heirs for their blood-lines. It was unescapable if they wanted to be recognized still as part from their respective families, since there had never been created a potion to allow homosexual couples descendency, and the few transfiguration experiments regarding that topic were said to be painful and useless all the same.

They had never looked at people from the same gender as atractive in that sense, hadn't wanted to, lest they were to be tempted, and had had ingrained in their minds that to act upon such desires would only bring them sadness, shame and abandonment. Never before had they thought about defying such conventions taught by their parents, especially since few of them could say that they knew of someone else they'd defy their families' beliefs for.

However, differently to them, Ro wasn't a only son, the only hope of his family to provide Heirs. He was a sixth son and already liked less than the rest of his siblings by his parents because of his Sorting into the snakes' house. He had no expectation to bow under in this case, and even if so he had already spent years being himself. Nevertheless, it wouldn't benefit him should that knowledge about him reach the rumour mill.

That day he went to the Yule Ball with Millicent as his partner, and the next day the girls from their year and Hermione were informed of his leanings.

After Harry touched the Portkey Cup Barty Jr. had no more interest in keeping his position as an infiltrated agent at the school; given that Pettigrew had been Kissed months ago he was the one responsible for the ritual at the graveyard. However this time Harry was expecting the unexpected, and thanks to Ro he was better prepared than he should. He had reached the cup before Diggory and was alone to face the two other wizards.

Not many things differed in essence after the Ritual to give back Voldemort a real body was completed, but for the fact that he didn't start screaming once he got back to the school. Instead he clamed up, since he hadn't any real proof of his return and announce it without a plan would only land him as a patient in the Janus Ward at St. Mungos. Plus, the more time snake-face had to spend hidding himself the better; hopefully that would put them all in a stalemate of sorts, an impasse in which they could keep coming up with better plans – even if their enemy also disposed of that time to deliberate.

He was whisked away to the Infirmary after being heralded as the TriWizard Tournament's Champion, his friends following close at his heels. The moment Fudge and Bangman stopped watching him he escaped their clutches, wanting to inform his Housemates of what had happened. And Hermione. Actually, their whole group. The snakes were clever, but also few; now that that monster had regained a body they would need as much assistance as possible.

He also requested to see the Headmaster that night, after listening to Ro talking about the Order of the Phoenix which had been leaded by Dumbledore in the First Wizarding War.

After that, having a week left before leaving Hogwarts lend them time enough to coordinate among them at which times they'd visit Solar Cottage.


	6. Summer & Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original chapter: not even 2 full pages. The rewrite: seven completed pages and a little bit. 🙃 This chapter it's the product of me being writing between this morning and this afternoon, so if there's any error do tell.
> 
> That said, have fun!

Once Harry arrived to Black Castle, flanked by both Sirius and Remus, he had to take a deep breath before daring to step in. The building had always been larger than life, but now more so than before, without the presence of Grandfather Arcturus there to infuse new life to the mere walls with his voice alone.

For the first days he tried to busy himself as a way to deny the light depression that crept on him whenever he looked at any particular painting and was reminded of the older wizard standing in front of it, narrating how it came to be there. Or pretending not to see the door to his office, where most of his teaching had come to be.

However the misery dogged his steps, already at ease over the whole building, and he was broodier every day because of it. At some point Sirius sat in front of him, to ask him if he would prefer to go live at another place, even if only for a time until he felt better.

Harry acceded to it, and over the next two days they moved to Grimmauld Place; a horrible townhouse, but in need of work enough to occupy his time when he didn't want to think, on London itself and with strong wards and protections weaved by Sirius' paranoid father, and therefore useful for both: protecting themselves and to double as the Order of the Phoenix' Headquarters.

And in the meanwhile, he tried to maintain some kind of regular communication with Ro at least.

From the depths of his mother's library Blaise was trying to come up with a secret way to contact the rest of their group for their messages not to be tracked by outsider parties. After all visiting each other would only help so much before they attracted unwanted attention, and despite that Dobby elf's loyalty towards Malfoy and his admiration of the Boy-Who-Lived, he was still property of Malfoy Sr. and could be ordered to spit their secrets.

Muggle means were out of the question, judged to be slow and unfit for the task at hand, but the Floo could be tracked from the Ministry, owls could be hunted and none of them knew how to Apparate – plus it'd be easier for them to splinch themselves than to be successful.

That is to say, he had to invent a new way. It was ridiculous how difficult he found it.

Ro was unable to keep her sigh inside. A tight knot of nerves was present on her stomach, heavy and unrelenting.

Just now her mother had opened her room, as always without calling first – to find her in a large shirt that ended just over her knees. That wouldn't have been as bad if she hadn't a belt embracing her waist and if her hair, far longer than two years ago, hadn't been up in a stylish ponytail.

She couldn't do much for her face at the moment, nor her shoulders, or even the colour of her hair, but from time to time it was freeing for her to feel a bit more feminine than usual. To pamper herself and shave her legs and put a bit more care into her hairstyle, or even feel just a bit more coquettish than usual. Even when she hadn't cared much about that in the first place, at the moment it was the most she could do to be more like the woman she actually was.

But if her mother had disliked her before, she was sure that now she was despised. Ro tried to swallow hard without success.

' _Get ready to go. We're going to spend the rest of the summer on a safe-house_ ' had said her mother once she apparently got over the shock of seeing her the way she was at the moment. And she closed the door with a bang, though Ro believed it was more because she was still a bit out of it than from spite itself.

Unsure of herself, she got out of her clothes to change into a more male-looking outfit before she started to pack her things.

“ _At least the Dark Lord isn't visiting our Manor openly”_ , thought Draco to himself. In the past two weeks he had been back from the school he hadn't seen nothing that would indicate his presence there, but for the uptight atmosphere invading the building. True, his parents had always been sticklers for the rules, but he still felt the tenseness over their shoulders.

No, it was thanks to Dobby that he knew, the loyal creature relaying to him the private meetings his father held with the snake-like madman, usually also out of his mother's eyes. There were plans in the making to kill off one person or the other, so as to maneuver their political allies into powerful positions, pondering what blackmailing information information they had to force others to do their biding.

Knowing that, the blonde teen got more anxious day by day. Just once, he had written a letter with that particular information, ordering Dobby to give it to Zabini, as he didn't felt confident enough to visit him at the moment. Many of the snakes of their group were in a similar position, unwilling to contact their neutral allies -friends- lest they were to be threatened into compliance with the Dark Lord and his cronies.

Most of the time they wouldn't even report the little information they got access to because of where they were. The last thing he knew from Zabini was that he was trying to develop an untraceable way to contact each other, but he probably hadn't had a breakthrough yet or he would have communicated with them already.

He knew none of them were having it any easier than him. From the beginning he had got nothing from Bulstrode -he didn't care much about her, or at all, but Potter and Ro seemed to like her well enough- and the only time he could go visit Parkinson she told him that Davies felt horrible. The poor girl wasn't getting sleep ever since she saw her older brother being inducted to the Dark Lord's cause. At the moment he presumed that Greengrass was the one to keep a semi-regular comunication with Zabini.

He hoped that they all were okay until the end of the summer. And also, he hoped that Ro wouldn't be in the middle of any attack.

Ever since the arrival of the Weasleys, things at Grimmauld Place had gotten a bit livelier than before. Harry still preferred to avoid Molly as much as he could, especially once he saw how much more nasty she had got towards Ro since the past summer. A bit lost, he had asked his friend the reason why.

' _Remember what I told you guys before the Ball?_ ' had said the red-head, and Harry nodded. It wasn't everyday that your best friend admitted to not feeling as a boy within. ' _She caught me being more girly than I ought to be_ ' had confessed Ro in an exhalation, probably ashamed of herself.

That had angered Harry. Ro had been his first friend ever, and had been besides him in every step that counted, supporting him, encouraging him to be the best he could, never once putting him down. He –  _She_ , damnit, was the best person he had ever met, and deserved much more than what she received. There wasn't much he could do for Ro, but at least he could be by her side whenever her mother would feel like belittling her.

While contacting each other was taboo that summer, at least going to live at Grimmauld Place had its upsides too, in the way of the appearance of that damn lockect that had taken so much screen time from the last films. It was one of those things she could congratulate herself for not forgetting – those things were the axis that had turned her world back at the time she had realized where she was. The shitty things responsibles for the very alive state of the deluded wizard bent on acquiring immortality. Fuckermort.

It was all thanks to the little, spiteful creature that loamed the walls of the townhouse. Kreacher was his name, and he had rescued that particular thing from the garbage bags her mother had prepared. She could understand him; after years of sharing a dorm with Dark-raised children she had gotten an appreciation of sorts for the ancient relics and their uses, and was actually aware of the value of those things her mother trashed without a second thought. But it wasn't like she dared to speak out to her at the moment.

The matter of the fact was that she asked for his name, and Harry told her once he got it out of Sirius. And then she stayed up that night, waiting until every other grown-up were asleep, before calling him. If her faulty memory was correct, the younger brother of Lord Black was related in a very important way to that pendant.

The little gamble paid up, in a sense, when Kreacher appeared once she mentioned the dead scion. She told him what she remembered of the thing, and especially that if someone could destroy it, it was Dumbledore. The wrinkled house-elf was convinced to send it anonymously to the Headmaster, keeping his presence hidden while the older wizard set to obliterate the cursed object.

That secured the elf's loyalty to them, though especially to Ro, whom had given him the idea that finally broke the cause of his master's death, and that was the breakthrough the little group of students needed that summer. After all, he was and elf who held no allegiances towards any of their parents, supposendly.

It didn't hurt that Ro asked Lord Black to free him so he could swear his loyalty to her, as per the own creature's request. That was the first thing to put them both in contact in a deeper way, more than her being Harry's best friend. After all, she kept to herself and preferred to let Harry enjoy his time one-on-one with his Godfather – and now also blood-adopted dad.

After that, Sirius noticed her more than before – even more once he heard the snippy comments Molly made about her from time to time. The grown-up had even asked her why it was that one of the evenings she was sharing with Harry. Her friend had vouched for the current Lord Black to be great when speaking, so she ended telling him her woes regarding her mother. That was, probably, the first time she had confided any of her problems to another grown-up, and she felt reivindicated once Sirius felt slighted on her name. He himself was bisexual, and had also had many a clash with his own mother.

That had prompted the older wizard to tell them about his teen years, and how he ran away from the very house they were at the moment to live with the Potters for the last years of his magical education. He even told Ro that if she ever felt like getting out of the Burrow -once her family got back there- she would find his door open and food and bed any time she needed. Sirius Black was the first grown-up to accept her as a woman instead of a guy despite the body she was born in.

Also the first to speak openly with her about the failed transfigurations regarding body modifications that had been conducted in the past. Perfect fertile specimens had lost the means to have descendance once their reproductive system was altered irreversibly; that was the main reason those were considered failures.

Even so, that was enough to spark her interest.

Kreacher's help was welcomed by the children, who now had a discrete mean to share information, and have coordinated by both Zabini and Weasley. Zabini was better at predicting movements, and Weasley was in charge to anonymously inform the Order in those things she could without putting her classmates in danger.

That however stopped once the academic year started again. Instead their actual project was stepping up with their competency in Occlumency. That allowed Harry to sort out Voldemort's visions -his mental shields weren't proficient enough yet to keep the Bastard out of his dreams- and notice the subtle differences between those that were real from those the other sent him to taunt him.

An improvement no one but Ro could appreciate was that, thanks to Harry keeping his mouth shut about the Dark Lord's return, he wasn't being openly attacked by the press, the soundness of his mins questioned by the Ministry. No Dementors graced his doorstep that summer. No Madam Umbridge was sent to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts that year.

Even though that was incredibly reassuring, it still put the red-head on edge.

Despite Kreacher's presence, once Hermione knew about Zabini's crusade that summer she resolved it with but a few days, with the intelligent use of a  _Protean_ charm. At the moment she had only done it over several fake galeons, but once the Slytherin saw it he started to think about the possibilities it opened.

It was especially useful now that lines were being drawn subtly over the school itself.

Hermione couldn't be publicly seen with any of the snakes, now more than ever. Greengrass, Davies, Zabini and Bulstrode had to keep to themselves, lest their neutral state was to be questioned. Potter was cautiously observed by the rest of their House -despite the several years he had spent there, he was still the sworn enemy of the Dark Lord- and Weasley wasn't acknowledged unless it was in public. Trying to humiliate him had never been fruitful, so it was the only thing they could do against him. At the moment at least.

So it was a deserved respite that the Shrieking Shack was operative and that Granger and Zabini had practically invented the way to send each other messages without being caught by any of their House mates.

In the many moments Ro had time alone by herself she tried to look for the Room of Requirements. She knew it'd be important, it had been so in the last film, but it still avoided her. As the days passed without success she started to despair.

Dumbledore was many things, but dumb wasn't included. He had known, in a sense, that the first Horcrux had been sent to him out of a guilty feeling, almost ashamed. Whoever had sent it to him was confused, conflicted.

It had still been the piece left of the puzzle that told him exactly what Tom had chosen to do, and opened the door to know the way he could be defeated. Harry wasn't the perfect clear-cut Chosen Hero, but the child was still doing an important part in the effort against his old student, stoping him on his First Year and escaping him the previous June to inform him of his return.

And also turning the Slytherin children of his year to the Light side; if not, there wouldn't be possible for him to have received those letters during the summer, always put orderly over his desk in his office. What none of them expected was for him to perceive the presence of the Black Elf, attentively observing him while he destroyed Slytherin's Locket or read the information.

The Black Elf that swore allegiance towards one young Ronald Weasley which, in Severus' words, had been subtly directing the other snakes of his year from the first day.

Albus had always accepted the power of the second chances, but he had never seen in action what pure understanding from the beginning could do. Instead of being suspicious of them given his family's ways, Ronald had stood besides them, lending a helping hand when needed, and acting very much like Albus himself would do on occasion, and that gamble had payed with their loyalty towards him more than to their parents and the Dark Lord.

What a new concept.

Their Fifth Year wasn't an easy one, by any means. Not only they had their OWLS at the end of the year; they used that time to polish their roles in the approaching conflict. It wasn't like any of them wanted to openly fight against the Death Eaters, but saving lives instead could be just as important. Maybe if the wix they saved went into other countries they could draw sympathies from there, form a resistence of sorts, at least secure aid or support in any way.

His Dark Bastard's original target had been to change the way their Ministry was run. To the date he appeared to have lost that thinking train -Malfoy theorized that somehow he had lost himself to the Dark Arts, sacrificing his sanity and rational mind; which, actually, was weird. Unless his parents had thrown caution to the wind, any self-respecting Dark-raised child would know how to avoid such pitfalls-, so who was to say he wouldn't someday look out of Wizarding Britain and turn his eye towards any other Wizarding Country. If they spinned that right, some of the other magical enclaves would help them out of self-preservation.

They had kept communication with some of the peers they had met last year thanks to the TriWizard Tournament, and while many of them had had to make nice with those who shared their parents' ideals, Granger, the Weasleys and Potter hadn't had to conform to that. The oldest brother of Ro was at the moment going out with the Beauxbatons Champion, and Granger still kept in contact with Viktor Krum.

Maybe they could smuggle those in danger to their countries. Maybe they could make a difference.

Lying on his bed, George Weasley pondered what should he do. The thing about being an older sibling is that, in some way, one feels responsible for those younger. Especially when you are seeing them walking straight into something that could be potentially dangerous.

Ro had been walking that line from the beginning, lost since she was a baby to a darker world than the one they could see, unable to help her from where they were back then. They had never known what had afected her so, what made her into the depressed child she had been in his memories of her.

He couldn't do much regarding that, only able to walk besides her without an inkling as to what her nightmares had been and try and support her now. And she had chosen to run a secret resistence whose integrants were the children of the Death Eaters. It was awesome, in a inspiring way, because it worked and through the years he had got to know them, and they were cool despite their upbringings. But that idea of hers had so, so many ways to end badly.

Fred felt the same way, and Percy probably would, if they were to ask him about it. But Ro hadn't wanted to tell him about it, since he worked at the Ministry and could be at risk.

Harry had given them his wins from the TriWizard Tournament before the summer began, and while they had used to fund their research of new products -as much as they could before their mother discovered their stash and trashed it almost completely- Fred and him had sat down one day, considering what could they do.

Ro would be in the thick and thin of the conflict created by You-Know-Who's new rise, one way or another, and they felt it their obligation to support her in her efforts against the maybe-possible-war. She had started to dream about it, already sleeping less and reminding them of those first years of hers.

The twins had thought about developing prank products but with the idea of aiming them towards the Death Eaters, were they to attack them. And maybe once He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were completely defeated by Dumbledore and Harry they could downgrade those products into more friendly versions.

Neville Longbottom would have never, in all his years before Hogwarts, expected to form part of a student resistance against You-Know-Who, much less that the greater part of it were Slytherins. However Ro had included him in his group of study along with Hermione, introducing them also to his twin siblings, and had never taken the mike out of him.

The once shy boy had flourished in the group, taken under the wing of the Demon Twins and their younger sibling, encouraged by Hermione and Harry, especially once the last one discovered they were god-brothers. Bulstrode was quiet and discrete and had interesting debates with him once she warmed up to him, and with time even Malfoy learnt not to feel threatened by him – Neville could easily see that the young scion wasn't used to have friends and that coveted Ro especially. Not that it was strange to him; Ro was probably the most level-headed of their group and practically the emotional support of them all in some way or another.

But in any case, that frienship Ro had established with him years ago was the actual reason behind him considering which plants could be voracious enough to defend the magical properties that would -hypothetically- hide escapees from You-Know-Who. Daphne Greegrass had been the one to ask him, but he had seen her writing to her parents about buying those he had mentioned to her.

Tension ran high in their group, a little more than before, and he saw it clearly, how everyone was coming up with ways to do something that wasn't going out to fight. Logical, since it wasn't yet an open conflict, but inspiring all the same. His Granny had never sided with Dumbledore and his Order, but maybe she could consider doing what his friends were trying to do. Surely their family could be of help.

Luna was a godsent, Ro had concluded years ago. She spoke of strange things she didn't understand very well, but at the same time her voice and what she comunicated was beautiful, untainted in a pure way that made her feel better with the world and herself.

Being with her was a bit like recovering a piece of her childhood -her true one-, back when she still was naïve and innocent, years before she ever became Ro Weasley. She had mourned that child, lost to the tide of the world as she started to know herself, to appreciate the ugly side of both the world around and herself.

Had she been different, maybe being near the blonde girl would have hurt more, would have made her bitter and envious of such delicate soul, the way she looked to the world. But even if it hurt, it was only a little, and basking in the presence of her younger friend felt to her like a balm for her soul.

Their conversations didn't have to be about the next problem, often seemingly inconsequential, but allowed her to take her mind for a bit out of the dreary future that awaited. Disconnect, even if just a bit. To the date, Luna had been the only one Ro had sung to.

Since thanks to mastering Occlumency Harry knew how to differentiate the visions, he never went to the Department of Mysteries. Even if he hadn't know to, he had the mirror of his father and used it regularly. And so, their OWLS year happened with only the tests and the threat of battle against You-Know-Who clouding their future.


End file.
